Monday, December 6, 2010

Lindsay, I’m sorry it had to come to this. Your story saddens me. Back in my day, the judges in LA County were stern but their rates were reasonable. The current media environment is appalling. Where is Eddie Mannix when you need him? Where’s Jerry Giesler? Jesus, I’d even settle for Anthony Pellicano right now. What is this world coming to?! In better times, talk could be silenced. And when that failed, the talker could be silenced.

Now, don’t worry. I’m not going to feed you a line of condescending paternal pabulum about cleaning up your act. Let’s face it. You’re 24, rich, famous, and Betty Ford might as well install a turnstile at the security gates for your relapses. You’re back on the street on January 3, 2011 and temptation in West Hollywood abounds. Before TMZ can twitter “train wreck,” you’re going to get busted back. And next time, it won’t be easy time. It will be Downey time (or even Spector time if you really fuck up).

Keeping in mind the horrendous conditions on the ground, I’d like to give you a survival kit. A realistic one. Before proceeding, let me state my underlying thesis: a human being may live a normal, healthy lifespan while indulging heavily in recreational drugs. I’ve done it. William S. Burroughs did it. And Hunter S. Thompson could have made the finish line if he had not opted out.

The good news is that you may continue to use narcotics. Even in the spotlight, life is depressing and a few kicks keep the stride in your step. However, the professional hedonist must be guarded, disciplined, and mindful. Sure, you can live on the edge but it’s a question of distance. Are you going to party two meters from the edge or two millimeters?

Below are my ten commandments. Dr. “Moses” Williams is handing down these tablets from high above Mt. Sinai so you don’t end up in Cedars-Sinai. They may be harder pills to swallow than last night’s ecstasy but do not question my wisdom. I’m thrice your age and can still drink, snort, shoot, toke, and ingest any punk junkie under any table.

Commandment One: HIRE A CHAUFFEUR

I’ve known many functional alcoholics around town who hire a personal driver to cart their asses from bar to bar until they pass out on the floor or end up in the drunk tank. With your healthy income, you have no excuse to endanger the lives of pedestrians on the Sunset Strip with alcohol-impaired driving. I suggest the purchase of a non-descript Bentley limo (those Hummer stretches are tacky and bad for the environment) that includes a wet bar stocked with all of your favorite drinks. Open container laws do not apply to the passenger section of these vehicles so you will be able to imbibe before and after visits to your favorite nightclubs.

If you choose to use narcotics in the limousine, a decent welder can saw a small hole through the floorboard so you can abandon your contraband in the event of a police stop or checkpoint. Also, make sure your driver has a clean record and will submit to random drug testing. After Princess Diana, I’m probably stating the obvious but, considering the company you keep, let’s not take any chances.

Command Two: BE NICE TO COPS

I cannot tell you how many times my “Patrolman’s Benevolent Association” bumper sticker allowed me to drive away from a borderline DUI pinch. If you are nice to the police, they will be nice to you. If you are afraid of the police, they will be afraid of you. A copper can smell fear just like any well-trained watchdog.

Remember Officer Friendly? Did he ever do you wrong? If you are a white and wealthy female, cops are your friends. The LAPD is out there to save your sorry ass from stalkers and maniacs who fixate on your fame and intend grievous bodily harm. On a daily basis, the police deal with murders, assaults, rapes, and all sorts of horrors you only view from the comfort of your VIP seating at a red-carpet premiere. Lindsay Lohan is not the center of their world. You are a second-rate nuisance that interferes with law enforcement’s ability to carry out more important duties.

Establishing a rapport with the LAPD will save you much grief down the road. Back in my day, I made a habit of taking officers to lunch. They had issues with me. I had issues with them. But after a couple martinis, we usually resolved our differences and moved on to more substantive matters such as the Dodgers’ potential for taking the pennant in 1977.

Invite a hot-dog LAPD captain or lieutenant to the Pacific Dining Car for a nice meal. Cops love the joint. The menu is a bit pricey on a policeman’s salary so they will be grateful when you pick up the check. The restaurant has excellent steaks and an elegant low-key atmosphere for good conversation.

Given your status as a paparazzi magnet, book a private room at the Dining Car and arrive twenty minutes before the scheduled meeting. Otherwise, you’re going to blow their cover and everyone will look stupid. Now, don’t worry. You won’t need to bribe or blow anyone. A $25,000 donation to a slain officer fund should be sufficient to put you in their good graces. And, frankly, if you’re going to stuff that cash up your nose within the month, why not do a good deed for once in your life?

Command Three: FILE MOTIONS TO SECURE MORE SYMPATHETIC JUDGES

Judge Marsha Revel ain't into revelry.

So, let’s see. You put your fate in the hands of a menopausal female judge under a harsh media spotlight. Then you publicly flout her authority and ignore her rulings whilst partying in Cannes. Lindsay, you ought to know how envious women can get. And I don’t know what goodies Marcia Revel has under her robe but I will assume they are not as tasty as yours. How could you not see how this episode would play out? You almost deserve to go to jail for the crime of willful stupidity.

At this point, it’s a little late in the game to switch judges though I just heard Lil’ Miss Marcia had to recuse herself from your case. Wonder if Bob Shapiro’s working that “Ol’ Black Mannix” behind the scenes. Or maybe she really did fuck up. I just can’t know…

Anyway, next time you end up in court, have your lawyer find a nice white-haired old gent from the judicial pool. Flirt a bit, hit your mark, and you’ll be able to get away with murder.

The Honorable Elden S. Fox

UPDATE: Congratulations on getting the Honorable Elden S. Fox! He sounds like a definite improvement. According to one legal forum, “He has bent over backwards with criminal defendants whom he thinks can be helped with something other then wasting time in jail.”

According to news reports, I have learned that you have been on several prescription medications, including Zoloft, Trazodone, Adderall, Nexium, and Dilaudid. Most of that stuff is just boring, non-euphoric garbage. You can drop that crap. It obviously hasn’t done you much good. However, I’m very interested in the Dilaudid prescription that you received for “occasional dental pain.” That must be one of hell of a toothache, LiLo!

For those who haven’t seen Drugstore Cowboy, Dilaudid was the very potent opiate that Matt Dillon’s character jacked from pharmacies. In fact, the actual person (James Fogle) that inspired the film just got arrested for trying to stick up a drug store in Redmond, Washington at the ripe old age of 73. I’m glad to see us geriatrics fight for the right to party. Keep punchin’, Jim!

Suffice to say, I would be most grateful if you could refer me to your dentist. In the meantime, stock up on those Dilaudid refills. Nothing beats narcotics manufactured in a FDA-sanctioned laboratory. By the time you score street stuff, it probably has gone through multiple distributors who progressively adulterate the product with quinine, caffeine, and all sorts of unhealthy chemical substances that diminish its purity.

As they say, if you want money, go to a bank. And if you want drugs, go to a drug store.

Now don’t be an idiot like Rush Limbaugh and go doctor shopping. The acquisition process should be performed through two levels of cut-outs. The first set procures the desired painkillers from, say, arthritic old ladies in Fairfax Village who want to pad their social security checks. You must not have any contact with these people. They never, ever should know your identity in the event of an arrest. Instead, your upper cut-outs will obtain the narcotics from the lower ones and then deliver them to you. By this means, you will achieve a certain degree of insulation. However, the upper cut-outs could still drop the dime on you so be sure to pay them well for their services.

At this point, you still carry the risk of a possession rap without a doctor’s prescription. However, I have a workaround for that too. If you previously had a prescription for a pleasant controlled substance like Percocet, be sure to save the bottle. Long after the official refills have run out, you may continue to replenish the contents without anyone getting wise at an airport or border crossing. Even if the bottle is out of date, you can just say it ended up in your luggage from an old vacation.

In this case, be sure the dosages match the label. For instance, if the doctor originally prescribed DuPont 7.5mg Oxycodone Hydrochloride/325mg Acetaminophen Percocet, be sure to acquire pills of the same dosage and brand. Most customs officers probably won’t be able to identify the imprint codes but I always advise minimization of exposure.

Commandment Six: USE DRUGS RESPONSIBLY

As I mentioned earlier, narcotics are OK. In fact, you are free to use lots of drugs but you must use lots of different drugs. The problem with addicts is that they get stuck in a rut. They develop an unhealthy relationship with a controlled substance. The narcotic becomes the crazed yet beautiful lover you cannot quit even though the affair is clearly headed for an unpleasant demise. After awhile, addicts don’t even get high off their drugs. They take more and more of the same substance, chasing after the initial bliss like trying to recapture the better days of a romance gone sour.

When using drugs, promiscuity is key. No loyalty. Fuck and leave. There are so many wonderful drugs out there that can fuck you up in so many different ways, why choose the monotony of a booze or coke habit? The cardinal rule is never to use the same drug on two consecutive days. Further, NEVER EVER mix your intake of drugs. That’s what got Belushi and Ledger. Drug interactions dramatically increase your chances of a visit to ER. Definitely a style-cramper and just more fodder for the tabloids.

Furthermore, if you want to be a connoisseur of quality narcotics, you need to enjoy the purity of the high. You must learn to savor the bliss of phamaceutical-grade heroin in the same way a sommelier enjoys the heady aroma of a vintage bottle of Lafite-Rothschild ’75. Adulterating the euphoria of good drugs with a toot of blow is tantamount to chasing a glass of Pauillac with a Bud Light.

Though I don’t want to micromanage your regimen, here is a sample schedule to follow.

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Marijuana

Cocaine

Heroin

LSD

Alcohol

MDMA

PCP

Now that gets you through the first week but we should mix around the order of narcotics and introduce other substances to keep things exciting. Here’s a more detailed schedule.

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Week One

Marijuana

Cocaine

Heroin

LSD

Alcohol

MDMA

PCP

Week

Two

Peyote

PCP

Ketamine

Alcohol

Vicodin

Cocaine

MDMA

Week Three

Alcohol

Marijuana

Cocaine

Magic Mushrooms

Xanax

PCP

Ketamine

Also, I know this will be a challenge but it might be healthy to refrain from using drugs every other Sunday. Take a yoga class or some bullshit. Talk to your shrink. Personally, after a long period of ingestion, I always found a sexual liaison to be restorative and life-affirming. Personally, nothing beats fucking off a vicious hangover with a member of the opposite sex. Or, with your orientation, you can hook up with both sexes! As you already demonstrate, variety is the spice of life.

Before proceeding, I want to emphasize that this blog does not condone violations of 18 U.S.C. § 1509 ("obstruction of court orders") nor equivalent statutes on the California books. The following remarks are to be construed as hypothetical in nature.

Having said that, the photo to my left speaks for itself. This clumsy attempt at tampering with your SCRAM bracelet is simply pathetic. If you are going to break the law, try to do so in an intelligent manner.

Keep in mind these monitoring bracelets are basically junk. Besides the fact that they may not meet the Frye or Daubert standards in appeals court, a decent electronics expert could trick out the alarm system in under five minutes. I suggest you find a engineering geek at Cal-Tech. Your starpower will dazzle him. After rewiring a few circuits, the bracelet will transmit an “all-clear” sobriety signal no matter how much you guzzle.

Lindsay, you are not dealing with the NSA here. These bracelets are manufactured by a chickenshit private contractor without any third-party research studies that affirm the effectiveness of the device.

Commandment Eight: LEARN YOUR CRAFT

Just when I thought I was the only geezer on your case, I came across a most amusing interview by my old pal Jerry Lewis. I will quote him directly as he articulates my sentiments perfectly.

Q: When you look at someone like Lindsay Lohan and then hear that she may get a million dollars for her first post-rehab interview, what do you think about that?

A: First, she doesn’t know who Al Jolson was… I’d give her a smack in the mouth if I saw her… The terrible part about our business is that people don’t know their craft. They, therefore don’t really help their director, they don’t help their writer, and don’t help their play. They have to learn what they’re doing and how does that get to the public. It gets through your crew. It gets through the people next to you and you treat them with infinite care because they’re delivering what you do. And when people who have celebrity deliver nothing in return, I think they need a fucking spanking… and a reprimand. And because they have all that money, they think they can do that. It has nothing to do with money….They have the intelligence of a box of rocks…a bag of snails.

Jerry has a point, Lindsay. Whether or not you know Al Jolson, learn to fucking act.

As a director, I have always subscribed to “The Method” as the best way of working with actors. For instance, before Robert DeNiro played Travis Bickle in “Taxi Driver” (old movie you wouldn’t know), he drove a NYC cab for a few weeks to become his character. It has come to my attention that you plan to play Linda Lovelace in an upcoming biopic about the porn actress. Lindsay, I knew Ms. Lovelace. When she auditioned for one of my films, Linda demonstrated a certain… pharyngeal talent. Accordingly, in order to understand the inner-life of your character, it will behoove you to learn this technique. So, in the name of Stanislavsky, I gladly will work pro bono as your acting coach for as long and as hard as it takes for you to engulf the deeper meaning of Linda's existential condition. I guarantee you will deliver a full-throated Oscar-worthy performance that will blow audiences away. If you'd like to inquire further about acting lessons at my Caribbean villa, please contact my personal assistant.

Commandment Nine: NEUTRALIZE THE PAPARAZZI

Although the LAPD has better things to do than initiate lockstep surveillance on your activities, the paparazzi do not. They make a living off your abnormal behavior and may expose illegalities. Accordingly, the easiest way of keeping them away involves acting sane and responsibly. However, if that is not an option, you’re going to need to undertake more proactive measures. Stashing random cars in underground parking garages is an excellent method for shaking unwanted tails. Park, change cars, and you’re free. I used to keep four or five models at LAX whenever the G broke my balls. It drove the Feds nuts! Because of flight paths, they can’t maintain aerial surveillance. For best results, don’t drive anything too flashy. After all, who would suspect that Lindsay Lohan will arrive at a nightclub in a 1982 Chrysler “K” car?

Commandment Ten: DON’T DO LOTS OF BLOW IN THE COMPANY OF MEN WHO ARE OLDER THAN 50

We’re too polite to mention your coke-infused chatter annoys us but it does. Please don’t take offense. I only wish for you to comport yourself in a dignified and ladylike matter.

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This blog is a dumping ground for celebrity dirt, mafia dirt, political dirt, music dirt, model dirt, and other top-grade manure to fertilize journalistic bombshells that shall be dropped mercilessly upon my enemies. Also consult this website frequently for handy tips on how to get drunk and laid. I’ve specialized in that field since before you were born.